


Pretending

by SyntheticWinter



Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-21 23:49:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7410019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SyntheticWinter/pseuds/SyntheticWinter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set vaguely during Season 2 or Season 3.</p><p>Just Dean picking someone up then returning to the motel after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pretending

Sam sits at a small table, pretending to read the book he’s brought along but casting surreptitious glances over at the bar. At Dean, leaning casually on the polished wood as he orders another shot. At the woman standing much too close to Dean for Sam’s liking. At the smile Dean flashes her and the way her eyes rake over him in response.

Dean’s eyes flick up, meet his, and yeah, maybe Sam’s not being as subtle as he thought he was.

Dean shrugs one shoulder, and the woman’s gaze is drawn to the play of muscles beneath fabric. Sam can’t make it out from here, but he knows she also sees the edge of a mark just peeking out from Dean’s collar. A mark Sam put there this morning. He shivers at the memory, fingers automatically going to the matching mark just beneath his own ear, fortunately covered by his hair.

The woman lays a hand on Dean’s thigh and Sam is out of his seat, shoving the book into his pocket and stalking across the room before he even realizes.

“Excuse me,” he says, barely sparing the woman a glance as he tugs Dean _away_ from her. “My brother’s had a few too many, and we’ve got to get an early start in the morning.”

Dean grins at him brightly. “Sammy!”

Sam refuses to be taken in. “Come on, Dean. Let’s get you back to the motel.”

“You go on. Wanna play some pool.” And despite the fact that drunk Dean was not all that great at hustling (the _actually-drunk_ part kind of made it hard to play), despite the fact that Sam _knows_ leaving Dean alone in this state is a bad idea, he does it anyway. Because he’s pissed. And because Dean asked him to.

Forcing a tight smile, he claps Dean once on the shoulder (maybe a little too hard, but hey) and makes himself walk away.

If he walks back to the motel and lies awake the rest of the night, that’s no one’s business but his own.

* * *

Dean returns sometime in the early morning hours. Sam listens to him shuffle around in the dark, bumping into the table and muttering a curse. Dean passes near the foot of his bed and he tenses, not sure whether he wants Dean to crawl into Sam’s bed with him or keep walking to his own. An odd mix of relief and disappointment surges through him when Dean continues walking. The bedsprings creak as he lies down, there’s some shuffling around, and then it’s quiet.

Sam opens his eyes and stares at the ceiling.

Across the narrow ( _too wide_ ) gap between them, he knows, Dean’s not sleeping either.

* * *

In the morning, they both pretend nothing happened.


End file.
